Them blokes need 'aircuts....
Today my time machine transported me to just days ago, to a Black Sabbath concert... on Sunday, the Sabbath, as declared by that guy upstairs.... on Palm Sunday no less (observed in an assortment of ways by different religions). Add to that the flashes of lightning in the darkening sky visible through the lobby windows as I passed through the turnstile to enter the concert arena. Everything came together that evening.
Tonight was special for Ozzy was in attendance, bringing to our "cathedral" ( arena) three-quarters of the original quartet of the 1970's. Sadly, drummer Bill Ward was not a part of this line-up, but in his stead, Tommy Clufetos was a more than competent stick-slinger. Clufetos looked a bit like the Ward of old, shirtless, with long hair and beard flying as he battered his kit. Both his appearance and playing style also reminded me of the beastly puppet character Animal (also a drummer) from the Muppets.
Forty-five years after Ozzy, Tony, and Geezer dubbed themselves Black Sabbath, I finally got to see them in performance. I did have the privilege of attending a Sab reunion in 2007, though that was the Ronnie James Dio version, dubbed Heaven and Hell for the tour, and only playing music from the three Dio-sung albums. But with Ozzy on board, the band dug way, way back to wrestle with chestnuts like War Pigs, Behind the Wall of Sleep, Fairies Wear Boots, and NIB - while still presenting some of the newer music off their latest album, 13.
Ozzy was in fine form, looking healthier than I'd seen him on a couple of his solo tours over a decade ago. He's still got the pipes to deliver his distinctive vocal style, and it sure looked like he was having a good time inciting the crowd into a frenzy. Laid-back in manner but certainly a driving force were Misters Butler (on bass) and Iommi (on guitar), weaving an aural tapestry that filled the hall. The sound, at least from where I was sitting, was clean and listenable, without distorting into a wall of unintelligible fuzz. Geezer amazed us with his still solid bass skills, nimble fingers flying up and down the neck of his instrument, plucking and slamming out melodic rhythms to either match or complement Iommi's massive guitar crunch. Tony remained rooted in place - his longtime stage habit of preference, as he riffled through the Sabbath catalogue, laying down heavy slabs of metal chords, and urging piercing solos to spiral into the rafters. Yes sir, we the fans really got a treat that night.
Highlights of the concert: the opening song, War Pigs, introduced by air raid sirens that gave way to crashing power chords and spidery riffs fired everyone into a singalong. The song Black Sabbath sent chills down my spine with its eerie, doomy atmosphere and devastating guitars. The fans, including me, went bananas as the opening riff of Fairies Wear Boots greeted our ears; this is a fun and rollicking tune that did not disappoint live. Then Children of the Grave came chugging through the set, crushing guitars barrelling along joyfully.
An amazing and unforgettable show.
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